


Tender Heart

by Tovaras



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hospital, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:16:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tovaras/pseuds/Tovaras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is floating in an out of conciousness after a horrible car-accident.<br/>The only thing keeping him alive is the presence of his beloved Dorian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tender Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Happy new year, everybody! Lets start off this new year by breaking your hearts!  
> (I am so sorry, I was listening to a song called "In Repair" and it just came to me. Please don't kill me!)

Cullen could feel the metallic taste of copper in his mouth along with the taste of bile and something he couldn't describe. Lights kept flashing, his ears were ringing and he wasn't even sure which side was up anymore if he was to be honest.  
He couldn't move, every single part of his body seemed to hurt, including breathing. His vision was blurring, his head lolling from side to side, trying to get a grasp of where the hell he was, but everything seemed to be moving.  
A sudden turn helped moving his head to lay on it's side and despite the fog that seemed to cover his eyes, Cullen could see something spots of black, light brown, red and white next to him, merged together into a blur.

_'Dorian.'_

He struggled to take another breath, then groaned as the movements stopped and his head was turned back to look up by someone with gentle hands. The same gentle hands pried his mouth open as he started choking, forcing a tube down his throat. He gagged around it, but he could do nothing to stop it, nor remove it.  
Breathing became easier after that, but it still hurt when he did it, his chest feeling as if it weighted a ton.

_‘No. No, let me see him.”_

Another turn was made and he was only semi-aware of the fact that they passed through a set of doors before he closed his eyes, unable to keep them open anymore.  
He let out a choked groan as he felt something pinch at his arm, followed by a numbing sensation that slowly spread through his body, easing the pain.

Then everything went black.

***

_“Look out!”_

_“Shit!”_

_The sounds of car-tires screeching, then the forceful slam of something hitting the car, sending it sharply to the side. He spun the wheel as he fought to regain control of the car, the sound of tires and metal scraping echoing in his ears, his hands desperately gripping at the steering wheel as he tried to keep the car upright._

_“Cullen!”_

_Then the car flipped over, sliding on its roof and slamming into something hard._  
Glass rained over his face and he could feel a sharp pain penetrate his leg, his chest, everywhere.  
He tasted copper, smelled smoke and every cell in his body seemed to be on fire from the pain. 

_Then there was nothing._

***

“Ssssh… Don’t try to move, amatus. You’ve just gone through some terrible things…”

The voice was warm, familiar, soothing, but his mind was foggy and he wasn’t able to grab a hold of his own thoughts. He felt as if he was walking in slow motion and even as he turned his head towards the warm, velvety voice, the movement hurt.

“Ah, ah, what did I say. Please, amatus, don’t strain yourself.”

Cullen let out a small groan as a warm hand gently cupped his cheek, stroking over his skin tenderly.  
With all the strength he could muster, Cullen forced his eyes to open, letting out another choked groan as the light stung at his eyes.  
He couldn’t see properly, but he could somewhat see the blurred figure next to him as it pulled away. He could see black, brown and white, blurred together, but he knew… He knew.

_‘Dorian.’_

“You were always such a stubborn man,” the man murmured and Cullen could hear the smile from the tone of his voice.  
“But I can understand it. I mean, I am here and who in their right mind could resist trying to see me, hmm?”

_‘Dorian… My Dorian.’_

“Do you remember, amatus? The first time we met? I said the same thing back then. Oh, your blush was the most adoring thing I had ever seen.”  
Dorian continued speaking and Cullen was only too happy to listen, grasping after the words and holding them tightly. He didn’t want to fade away again, into the darkness.  
The darkness was scary, full of frightening sounds and images.  
He could still hear the sound of metal getting rushed, the sound of wheels biting into the asphalt only to lose their grip.  
He could hear someone scream…  
He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted to hear Dorian speak.

“Of course you do,” Dorian continued, letting the warm hand stroke over Cullen’s cheek and jaw, ghosting over the plastic tubes that came from his nose.  
“I am not easily forgotten. And neither are you. I remember everything. The blush on your cheek, that horrible, red shirt, the worn-out shoes … You were a disaster, but you were oh, so lovely either way.”

He remembered.  
Dorian was beautiful that day. The caramel skin, the styled, black hair, that ridiculous moustache that he was able to make so very attractive.  
He was wearing fancy clothes; a brand Cullen didn’t know. The only thing he did know was that the white shirt and sinfully tight black pants fitted the man perfectly.

They had met at a New Year’s party almost five years ago.  
Cullen had only just started a new job at the police-force and Cassandra, his partner, had tugged him along, refusing to “suffer alone” as she put it.  
She had been invited by Josephine, an old friend of Cassandra’s, who was the secretary of the hostess of the party, a shrewd business woman by the name of Vivienne De Fer.  
He had been introduced to her, of course, but he felt horribly out of place in his own, rather modest clothes, but Vivienne had reassured him that “this is not a formal party, merely a gathering, darling”.

That’s when he had seen him.  
Dorian Pavus.  
She had introduced them to one another and as they shook hands, Cullen had felt so very ashamed of his own meager position as “detective”.  
Dorian himself was an author and a well-respected professor with an PhD in Physics and literature, but somehow they had managed to hit it off rather well despite Cullen’s nerves.  
He was sure that the alcohol had helped in soothing his nerves enough to have a proper conversation and as they talked, he found that they actually had a lot in common. Dorian had seem rather pleasantly surprised and Cullen could remember that the man had been absolutely relentless in his flirting with him. When the clock had struck midnight, Dorian had grinned and kissed him smack on the lips before Cullen could react.  
“It is just sad, not having shared a kiss at midnight on new year’s eve, no?” he had said and Cullen hardly found it in him to complain.

They had exchanged numbers just moments after that.

The memory sent a slight shiver through Cullen’s body, quickly followed by a very familiar and comforting warmth.  
It had been the start of the most wonderful time in Cullen’s life, the day when he had finally started living again.

Cullen let out a small, muffled groan, unable to talk thanks to the tube down his throat, but he wanted to. He wanted to talk to Dorian, wanted to hear his voice again.

“Do not fret, amatus,” Dorian whispered, his fingers stroking over Cullen’s brow tenderly.  
“I am here… I will always be here.”

_‘Dorian.’_

“I love you, amatus. I love you so much.”

_‘I love you.’_

Cullen let out another choked sound, then swallowed hard as he felt his chest tighten, but not because of the warm memory or the presence of Dorian.  
He couldn’t breathe. His chest tightened as he struggled getting air into his lungs, his heart beating hard and fast as he struggled with drawing air into his lungs.

He was halfway aware of a loud beeping sound that suddenly started up in the room as he struggled with keeping himself away, his mind already swimming as darkness started flooding over it.  
He heard people running and the last thing he saw was people dressed in white flocking around him before he let himself be swallowed up by darkness.

***

_“Where are we going, amatus?”_

_“It’s a surprise, Dorian. Trust me, you’ll love it.”_

_There was laughter in Dorian’s voice and Cullen could feel himself smiling as he stole a glance at the man next to him in the car. Only for a moment before his attention returned to the road._

_Everything would be perfect tonight._

_The reservations were made at the restaurant where he and Dorian had had their first date, with Cullen having asked for the exact same food to be served.  
The only thing that would be different would be a ring in a box that was currently resting inside the pocket of his coat._

_Five years ago, they had started dating.  
Now, he wanted Dorian to become his husband._

_He remembered the flutter inside his chest as he thought of the ring in his pocket, resisting the urge to check if it was there yet again.  
He knew it was there, he had made sure of it when they had left the apartment and after he got into the car._

_Everything was ready._

_Everything would be perfect._

***

As he slowly regained his consciousness, Cullen found that he lacked the strength to do anything, even open his eyes. He tried to, but he just wasn’t able to find the strength.  
He let out a small sound of frustration, but even that sound was weak, almost pitiful.

“You scared me, amatus. Please don’t do that again.”

_‘Dorian.’_

Cullen let out another small sound as he felt fingers brush over his cheek, then replaced with a feather light touch of warm, familiar lips.

“You must fight, amatus. Do you understand? Fight. You must live, amatus.”

Live...?  
Of course he would live. He had his entire life, his future with Dorian and he would be damned if he left his lover alone.

“Of course you will live…”  
Cullen could hear the small, sad chuckle in Dorian’s voice and he would give anything to be able to hold him, to chase away that sadness, but he couldn’t. He could only lay there and listen.  
A hand slid into his own and he tried squeezing it, hoping that Dorian could feel it.

“You were always so strong, Cullen. Always. You know that, yes? Everything you have gone through, everything… You overcame it, on your own. Because you are strong. Strong of will and strong of heart. You will overcome this too. And I will help you, amatus. I will be here. I will always be here, amatus. Always.”

_‘Dorian.’_

He inhaled deeply, mustering all his will and energy before slowly, carefully, opening his eyes. He wanted to see him, wanted to see Dorian’s beautiful face. He wanted to see, needed to know, that his lover was alright.

Except he couldn’t.  
Even as his eyes opened, he couldn’t see anything but blackness in front of him.  
He started breathing harder, faster as the same beeping as before pierced through the air and through his ears.

He gasped, coughed, choking on the tube in his throat before darkness once again claimed him.

***

_He could smell the smoke and taste the copper in his mouth._  
He tried to move, but he was stuck, held to his seat by his safety belt.  
There was a sharp pain in his leg, in his stomach and both arms and when he tried moving them, he found he could barely lift them.  
His head was throbbing, but something inside him told him that he had to get them out. 

_What had happened?  
They had been on their way to the restaurant, they had been on the road…_

_He groaned as he tried to remember, but his head only throbbed from the effort._

_“Dorian...?”_

_His voice was hoarse, cracking, barely there and it was met only by a strange sizzling sound._

_“Dorian.”_

_He coughed, felt the taste of copper spread further in his mouth as he coughed up blood from his throat._

_He was dizzy, so very dizzy, but he had to know… Had to see if his lover was okay._

_He was barely able to turn his head to his right before his vision blurred, giving him the unclear vision of someone next to him, hunched over and unmoving before he passed out again._

***

Everything was blurry.

There was a constant whirl of voices, sounds and actions around him. Every time he opened his eyes, someone was there, but he could never properly see them.

Cullen felt as he was living on a cloud; everything was blurry, floating, light. He couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, could barely think.  
The only real constant thing he was able to grab a hold of was Dorian.

At times it felt like he was slipping away, like dozens of hands were pulling at him into a deep, comforting sleep, only to be rudely awakened by painful jolts that went through his body, ripping him back into a world he couldn’t see properly and would loud and at times painful sounds.

Then it changed.

The hands that were pulling at him were losing their grip as a new, almost familiar pair of hands started pulling at him in the opposite direction.  
He spent more time awake rather than asleep and while he still slept, he felt safer. The many hands that pulled him away stop feeling comforting and instead he fought it. He didn’t want to feel it.  
The other hands remained, holding onto him, almost as if someone was cradling him, holding him grounded, safe and alive.

The more he fought, the more time he was able to stay awake and the more he was awake, the more he became aware.  
His vision cleared up a little and he could almost make out the people that where fuzzing over him. They seemed pleased that he was responding to what they were doing so he continued.

He could also see him from time to time, behind all the people that were fuzzing over him. Always watching over him, letting the people do their work.  
It was comforting, knowing that Dorian was okay and that he was watching over him. 

It made the fighting easier.

It made it easier to for him to make himself awake.

***

“He’s awake!”

“Oh, thank the Maker! Cullen? Cullen, can you hear me?”

Cullen let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open, then shutting from the sharp light assaulting his eyes.  
“Mgh… Where…?”  
His tongue felt numb and there was still something covering his face. He couldn’t remove it, his hand felt like it weighed a ton, but it was okay.  
He was able to talk, though his voice was weak and hoarse from lack of use. His throat also felt better, indicating that the tube had been removed from his mouth. It still hurt to breathe, but it was better than having it down there. He could deal with the discomfort.  
There were more talking around him, people talking over one another as they reached towards him. He could feel warm hands grasping at both and he squeezed them, hoping it belonged to Dorian, but both hands felt different. Slender.  
“Where...?”

“Do you remember what happened, Cullen?”

“Easy now, don’t crowd the poor guy,” a darker voice said. “Give him a chance to actually wake up.”

Cullen blinked his eyes a couple of more times, trying his best to adjust them to the light as well as letting them get back into focus as he just focused on breathing.  
His head was a mess; he honestly still wasn’t sure where he was or how much time had passed.

As his eyes adjusted, he was able to recognize the worried faces around him. Cassandra was sitting to his left, hands gripping hard at his left hand while Josephine was too his right, holding onto his right hand.  
Varric was standing next to the bed, giving him a small smile as he saw Cullen focus on him.

“Welcome back to the world of the living, Curly.”

“What...?”  
Cullen’s voice broke and as he tried clearing his throat, he coughed.

“What happened,” Varric offered while Cassandra released Cullen’s hand in favor of bringing a glass of water to his mouth, carefully placing a straw between his lips so he could drink while she held the glass.  
“You had an accident. A car accident, to be precise. Some drunken teenagers who had just celebrated getting his license according to the cops. Lost control just as you and Dorian made a turn. Slammed right into your side.”

“What...?”

“I take it you don’t remember that,” Varric said with a slight smile.  
“Can’t say I blame you, Curly. It apparently looked bad, when they found the two of you. The car was on its head and the front was smashed in along with the passenger side of the car.”

“The… What?”  
Cullen blinked his eyes before he started looking around. “Dorian. Where is Dorian?”

Varric opened his mouth before looking at Josephine, who immediately looked away, her mouth opening and closing, as if she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.  
Cassandra swallowed hard and looked to the others, a pained expression crossing her features before she looked back to Cullen.  
“You… Maker, Cullen, I am so sorry…”

“Where is Dorian,” Cullen repeated, his voice hitching slightly, his breathing becoming harder.

“… Dorian did not make it,” Josephine said quietly, her own voice cracking as she brought a hand to her mouth, covering it as she choked on a sob.  
“His… His injuries were too severe. The doctors, they said he was unresponsive when he came here. They… They tried their best, but his injuries where too severe…”

“No,” Cullen said firmly, swallowing hard. “No. He’s not dead.”

“Cullen-,” Cassandra started, but Cullen shook his head.

“No! He is not dead! He’s been with me every time I was awake! He’s… He’s not gone! I’ve seen and heard him next to me!”

“Cullen, please, you must calm down,” Cassandra pleaded, but Cullen shook his head, attempting to sit up despite his weakened state. He had to find Dorian, had to show them that he was okay. He had to know and that was more than enough to give him the strength he needed to get up.  
The heart monitor to his right started beeping louder and quicker as his heart beat harder and faster, but Cullen ignored it.  
Despite Cassandra’s best effort to keep him down, Cullen somehow managed to not only sit up, but also swing his legs over the bed, but that’s where it stopped. Two nurses and a doctor came rushing into the room and by then Cullen didn’t have any more strength left in him. He did find his voice though and he used it for all he could.

“Where is he?! I know he is here, let me see him! Maker damn you, let me see him!”

The last clear thing he saw before one of the nurses stuck a needle into his IV-tube was Cassandra, Josephine and Varric, the three of them giving him a pained look before his vision started to blur out.  
Then, as his mind started to fog over, he could see the outline of a someone else standing beside the door. Someone with bronze-colored skin, black hair and dressed in the same, white shirt as that day. For a moment, his vision cleared, giving him a clear image of his beloved, watching him with a soft, warm smile.

“Dorian,” he whispered before his eyes closed, the last thing he caught being Dorian’s hand moving to his chest, covering his heart while still smiling.

As the drugs overcame him and sleep claimed him, he could swear he heard Dorian’s soft, warm voice speak. 

_“I love you, amatus. I love you.”_

***

It took three days before Cullen was deemed calm enough to actually be talked to without going into fierce denial.  
His friends had tried to be there, but he was stressing himself up so much that the doctors asked them to give him time to accept what had happened before trying to explain things to him again.

It was with a choked voice that Josephine told him everything while Cassandra sat next to him, her own face pained as Josephine spoke.

She said Dorian had been in a coma for over two weeks, with critical injuries to his brain and several of his internal organs; a punctured lung, his left kidney almost split in half by his own broken hipbone and several broken bones.  
The car that had hit them had hit the right side of the car square on and when the car had flipped over when it slid over the road, a tree had stopped the speed. Unfortunately, Dorian’s door took the brunt of the stop and with it Dorian himself.

The doctors had worked on him for hours, they said, but after the surgery, Dorian had simply not woken up. In fact, he had been in a coma for just as long as Cullen had slipped in and out of consciousness.  
Their friends had visited him, sitting with both of them, and when Dorian’s father had come to claim ownership over Dorian’s treatment, they had refused it.  
Thankfully, thanks to Josephine, they had been able to deny Halward that right because it was stated clearly in Dorian’s papers that his family was not to decide over him if he was not able to make decisions of his own. Because of it, they had been able to keep Dorian on life-support until the end. It wasn’t until Cullen had gone into his last cardiac arrest that Dorian himself had died.  
The doctors had tried to revive him several times, but to no avail. The damages to his organs and the swelling in his brain had been too much, despite the doctor’s best efforts.

“While he was proclaimed dead,” Cassandra had said in a quiet voice, unable to look into Cullen’s eyes. “-the doctors were fighting to save you. Your injuries were not as many, but… One of your ribs broke, and punctured your heart. They tried fixing it, but the damages were too severe. So… They did something good for you.”

“What,” Cullen had asked, his voice hoarse. He didn’t want to hear it, he was already able to guess it, but he had to. He knew he had to.

“Dorian was an organ-donor,” Josephine had replied, a small sad smile on her face. “And the doctors said that… Well. You got his heart. They said you had the same blood type and while there’s normally a waiting-list, the doctor who made the decision said it had felt like the right thing to do. You were on the table, you were dying and they had something that could save your life as Dorian’s heart was… Completely undamaged.”

Cullen just stared at her, not able to believe what she was saying. He was half-aware of the fact that she was still talking, but he wasn’t listening. Instead he moved his hand to his chest, pressing over his heart. He could feel the sutures that were underneath, but he could feel something else as well.  
He could feel the heart underneath beat, strong and soothing in his chest.

_“I will always be with you, amatus. Always.”_

Cullen didn’t remember much after that, except the warmth from Cassandra and Josephine’s arms as they both embraced him, holding him as he let out a wail of sorrow, letting him cry hard against them as they tried to comfort him.

Dorian was gone.

Gone and he would never come back.

***

The funeral was beautiful and the Revered Mother’s words were beautiful, bringing out the very best and fondest memories people had had of Dorian.  
The ceremony was an open-casket one, with friends and family coming up to speak about Dorian and their memories off him. He was halfway aware of the fact that Dorian’s parents where there, but they did not speak up. He believed they didn’t dare to, knowing that they were vastly outnumbered by Dorian’s friends and loved ones.  
Cullen had also spoken, but he could not remember what he said. All he knew is that he spoke from the heart, letting his tears flow freely. He was only halfway aware of the amount of people that started crying when he spoke as his eyes were more or less on Dorian all the time. 

He had spoken of the man he had gotten to know five years ago; a confident, almost cocky man that had hid a soft, kind and generous side just because of the hardship he had faced in life. He had come from a country to Ferelden as a young adult with nothing to his name, and he had fought. Fought to earn everything he had in life by himself, without help, and he had managed.  
He had faced hardship because of his sexuality, hardship because of who he was and hardship for being from a country with a bad name. He had had little going for him, but he had overcome it all with dedication, hard work and a heart that was so generous, yet kept so hidden out of old shame and fear.

He spoke of his time with Dorian, how they had started, how they had managed to build a life together, helping each other in overcoming their insecurities, their fears and bad habits and together helped make one another a better person.

He spoke of Dorian as a private person, all his little quirks and habits that only he knew off. How he would trace under the lines in a book when he was reading, what a horrible cook he was and that he had almost burned down their kitchen twice. How he cried when watching romantic movies and hid behind a pillow when they watched horror movies.  
How he always, without fail, managed to steal almost all of the blankets during the night and his secret talent of singing.  
He had shared it all, all the good memories to the people and in return, ensured that Dorian would not be easily forgotten.

Cullen had then moved to the casket to say his goodbyes, leaning down to give Dorian’s lifeless body one last kiss goodbye to his lips before he just stood there, looking at him. From where Cullen was standing, Dorian looked as if he was merely sleeping.  
He was just as beautiful as ever, everything down to the fine suit, tailored perfectly to his lean, muscled frame, to the styled hair, the clean-shaven face and the perfectly curled moustache.  
The only thing that told Cullen that he was dead was the cold feeling of his skin and his lips as Cullen’s had touched his, and somehow that just made it all the worse.  
Dorian hated being cold and now he always would be.  
It made Cullen want to remove the suit Dorian was wearing, wrapping him up in something warmer, but the more rational part of him told him that that was pointless.  
Instead he choked back another sob and whispered a soft “Good bye, my love” against Dorian’s forehead before placing the ring he had bought for him underneath Dorian’s cold hand, squeezing them one last time before pulling himself away.

After the speeches the casket was carried outside to Dorian’s final resting place.  
Cullen had known that Dorian had no family buried in Ferelden and his own family had all agreed that he should be buried near to the Rutherford’s gravesites the best they could.  
After all, he was practically family as it was, they had said, knowing that Cullen had planned on proposing to him. That alone gave Cullen some comfort, knowing that he would be buried with people Cullen had loved when they were alive and that he knew would have loved Dorian, had they lived long enough to know him.

As Dorian’s casket was slowly lowered into the ground, the Revered Mother saying one final prayer before sprinkling dirt onto the dark-colored wooden lid, Cullen felt himself crack.  
A pained sob left him, his hand clenching at the fabric of his suit, just over his heart as he felt it throb painfully.  
He was halfway aware of the many people around him, of someone leaning over him to hug him and he had to hug back. He had to feel someone, someone alive. Someone real.

Because Dorian wasn’t real anymore. Would never be real anymore.  
He was dead, gone, laying in a casket and ready to go be buried under half a ton of dirt. Put like that, Cullen felt that Dorian deserved better, but that was the way it was.

The only thing Cullen had left from him was his memories, an apartment with his things and the knowledge that Dorian’s heart was keeping him alive.  
But he would always have a part of him, a part that Dorian had told him was his, had always be his.

He had given Dorian his heart so long ago and in return Dorian had offered his, jokingly telling Cullen to “keep it safe, yes? It is fragile, you see, and I do not think I can survive it if it breaks.”

Except the heart wasn’t fragile. It was strong, life-giving, radiant. Unwilling to give up.  
And it was beating inside his chest.


End file.
